


maybe, maybe not

by zeruno



Series: Twoset Violin One-shots and Drabbles [1]
Category: twoset violin
Genre: Angst, Anticipation, Falling In Love, Heartbreak, Hope, I Don't Even Know, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-19 09:33:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29872644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zeruno/pseuds/zeruno
Summary: holding onto a thousand maybes and an unspoken prayer of hope, Eddy gathered up to courage to tell Brett the truth
Relationships: Eddy Chen/Brett Yang
Series: Twoset Violin One-shots and Drabbles [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2196300
Comments: 3
Kudos: 14





	maybe, maybe not

It wasn’t long after he got separated from his old lover that he got that kick in his chest, and he thought, _damn, I’ve been such a dumbass all these years._

It was subtle at first, but gradually became more and more noticeable. The fraction of a second that Brett’s hand lingered on his back as he threw his guts out after having too much to drink, the pre-paid boxes of pizza he received when he told him he was feeling a bit off, little acts of _something_ he couldn’t quite name. And yes, he knows that it’s mostly likely a common thing between best friends; the unspoken _“I’m here,” and “I care”._ Maybe being an emotional wreck made him vulnerable, made him see things that weren’t there; nevertheless, he could swear, there was _something_ there.

  
Weeks passed and the fire of despair wasn’t burning forests anymore; well, at least not as much as before. Maybe the fires have cleared up something inside him, made some space up in his head for things he used to pay no attention to.

  
Before he knew it, he memorized the weight of Brett’s hand on his back, to the point that he can feel it as he lays in bed at night. His laugh became a sweet sound, his smile a sight to see. Maybe it was some sort of awakening; it was only then that he realized that his heart had always been beating for his best friend, but the feeling was concealed with the fear of losing him if he ever crossed that line. But maybe, this time would be different.

More nights passed, having those phantom touches, sparks on his skin, the abiding thoughts of his name, and the vivid, unerasable picture of his smile, staring back at him. He knew it was stupid, and unfair to tell him how he felt. He doesn’t want his best friend to be or feel like a rebound, a temporary sustenance per se. Brett deserves more than that; and he was too cruel and selfish to even think of it. However, the ache in his soul was evident; a longing so ardent and true.

  
In the end, no matter how ludicrous it seemed, he held on to his _maybes_.

_Maybe_ it’s true. _Maybe_ it wasn’t just me who felt that _something._

_Maybe he loves me back_.

He’s decided. Tomorrow, when Brett comes over, he’d tell him how he felt.

And so tomorrow came, it seemed pretty normal. And when he was about to say something, Brett beat him on breaking the silence.

“Hey, Eddy,” he said. “I need to tell you something. I’ve been keeping it to myself for a while now, and I’m sorry for not being open,” he continued.

The drum that is Eddy’s chest began pounding turbulently, as if wanting be set free. “Funny thing, I also have something to tell you.” He smiled. “Let’s say it at the same time, yeah?”

“Sure, why not? On three?”

“Alright. One…”

“Two…”

“I lo—” 

“I have a girlfriend.”

  
The words didn’t seem true, but it ringed in his ears. _“I have a girlfriend.”_ He felt the world collapse, combust in on itself; the thin string of hope he held onto snapped. It was a thousand heartbreaks concentrated into half a second of sinking in.

“We’ve been together for about a month now. I wanted to be sure first before I tell you,” he continued.

_Oh._ He felt a jolt in his chest; a thousand needles puncturing his already broken heart.

“That’s good, Brett!” He said, trying to sound fairly convincing.

“You didn’t finish what you were going to say, though.”

“Pfft. I was just going to say I—” _Fuck, what do I say?_

“I lost the scarf I borrowed. Besides, your little confession was much more interesting than mine,” he laughed; or at least tried to.

“Wait, you lost my scarf?"

“Yeah, sorry. I’ll just get you a new one.”

A stake to the heart, it was. Maybe he was simply too late. Or maybe he was just too much of an idiot to hold on to the uncertain promise of maybes.

Maybe in another life, or the one after that, they’ll meet again. When that comes, he’ll be sure. No more maybes, just the truth of his love. But then again, he’s not even sure if that time would come.


End file.
